


Wolves Claws

by Suphomie



Category: teen wolf - Fandom
Genre: Abuse, Captivity, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Gore, Inspired by Killing stalking, M/M, Murder, Sexual Abuse, Violence, kidnap
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-18
Updated: 2017-05-18
Packaged: 2018-11-02 01:47:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10934448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Suphomie/pseuds/Suphomie
Summary: Stiles sees something he shoudn't, and Theo takes care of it.(Killing Stalking inspired fic)





	Wolves Claws

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I recently read some of 'Killing Stalking', and I loved it! So dark and twisted- so of course, I thought of Stiles and Theo! 
> 
> This is just inspired by Killing Stalking, it won't be the exact same, only a similiar set up. I will deviate on my own path instead of the actual plot of the story, though. Hope you enjoy!

The smell of beer and sweat is heavy in the air as Stiles takes a small sip of his beer, finishing the bottle. He sighs lightly. "Can I get another?" He asks the bar tender, tapping the top of the glass bottle with his index finger.

"Me too." Someone says from next to him. Stiles looks to his side and sees a guy sitting a stool away from him, holding his own bottle of beer. He has dark blonde hair and blue eyes. He turns to Stiles with a small smile. Stiles looks away, down at the bar.

The guy doesn't seem to take the hint, though, asking, "Rough night?" While gesturing to the cut below Stiles' eye. 

Stiles' fingers ghost over the fresh cut, that has just recently stopped bleeding. And since Stiles isn't gonna tell some guy he just met about the guy who pushed him on the concrete in front of the university he attends, he just says a small, "Yeah."

The guy chuckles, scooting over to the stool right next to him. "Me too," he says.

Stiles looks him over. Yeah, he very much doubts this guy has any trouble defending himself. His arms are about twice the size of Stiles' skinny ones, and under his sweater he probably has really nice abs. The type of 'rough night' he had was probably much different than the type Stiles had. 

"Studying for finals is a lot more entertaining when you're drunk." The guy says with a smirk. Stiles huffs out a small laugh.

The bartender places two cold bottles onto the bar. The guy pulls out his wallet instantly, saying, "I got it." As he places some green bills onto the table. 

Stiles swallows, slowly grabbing his bottle. "Thanks." He says quietly. Why is this mystery man buying him a drink, exactly? It's weird. Stiles feels like it's been forever since he talked to someone besides asking his professors about the homework.

"I'm Theo, by the way." The guy- Theo- says, taking a sip of his drink.

"Stiles." Stiles responds minimally. 

"You're in Smith's class, aren't you?" Theo asks, looking at Stiles' face with familiarity. Stiles nods. "Knew I knew you from somewhere," Theo says, nodding back, "You're a Psych major, too?"

"Uh, no." Stiles says, looking down, "Just took it.. I dunno even know why. I hardly even pay attention."

Theo laughs, accidently bumping shoulders with him in the process. "Ah, I see." he says. He takes another sip of his beer and says, "I love psychology. The human mind is so... fascinating. Don't you think?"

Stiles shrugs. He does more sleeping in that class than actually learning, but he still responds, "I guess."

"So what do you actually like taking?" Theo asks, not breaking eye contact. Stiles does break eye contact, though, looking down at the table uncomfortably. The true answer is nothing. He really finds no joy in any of his classes. 

But, he lies, and answers, "Forensics is okay, I guess."

Theo stares intensely at him for a moment. Then he says, "You're lying."

Stiles cocks his head to the side. How the hell did he catch the lie? Theo must know what his question is, because he says, "See, everyone has a tell when they lie. You-" he lightly brushes his fingers against Stiles' hand that is playing with the napkin under his bottle, "- play with your hands. It's a common tell, really. A lot of people do it."

Stiles pulls his hand away quickly. He looks down, laughing uncomfortably, and saying, "You really do like psychology, huh?"

Theo laughs as well, taking another sip of his beer. He places his empty bottle back onto the bar, and says, "It was nice to meet you, Stiles. See you around."

Then, like that, he's gone. He walks away, dispearing into the crowded bar. Stiles let's out a deep breath, still playing with his napkin. He can't stop thinking about this weird encounter with this mystery man. He rubs a hand over his knuckles where Theo's fingers were just moments ago.

Eventually he finishes his drink. Instead of ordering another and being too drunk to walk back to his apartment, he just leaves.

He exits the building, stuffing his hands into his hoodie pockets. As he begins walking down the street, he notices two people making out against a car across the street. Except it's not just two people. It's Theo, and a girl named Malia from their psych class.

Stiles stares at them both for a moment. He then sighs, turning away and walking down the street to his place.

 

Malia's not in class on Monday morning. Theo is, though. He smiles at Stiles in passing as everyone piles out. Stiles smiles slightly back. As he leaves the school, he notices a sign posted on a bulletin board in the hall. It's a missing poster. A missing poster for Malia Tate, who aparently hasn't come home all weekend.

Stiles stares at him for a long time. Then he thinks about Theo.

 

The administration office is completely empty at twelve am. It doesn't take much effort for Stiles to pick the lock and sneak in. 

It does however take him a while for Stiles to find Theo's file, especially since he doesn't know his last name. But based upon the fact Stiles knows he's a sophmore and that he's in a psych class, he narrows it down to Theo Raeken. 

Stiles makes a quick copy of his file and stuffs it into his bag.

 

Theo's house is in a bad neighborhood. It's a bit run down and very, very empty. He's surrounded by silence, and it's super unsettling. But Stiles persists, knowing that his dad would do this. He would try to help.

Theo's lock isn't too hard to pick either. Once he does, he slowly walks in, careful not to make any noise even though he knows Theo's not home. 

The house is normal. Nothing out of the ordinary. There's one bedroom with a queen-sized bed, a kitchen, a bathroom, and a livingroom. Nothing out of the ordinary. 

But being the son of a cop, Stiles knows that even the most innocent looking house can hide something sinister inside. 

It's when Stiles is in the livingroom when he notices a lump beneath the rug. He pulls the red thing up immediately, to reveal a trap door. Stiles swallows nervously. He reaches over with a shaky hand and pulls it up. A stair case leading down is revealed.

Stiles nervously descends the concrete stairs, careful not to trip and tumble. The basement is dark. Stiles feels around for a light switch, and finds one against the wall. The room lights up with a weak light from the ceiling, still leaving the room a little dark.

Stiles wishes it hadn't revealed anything.

In the middle of the concrete floor, on a stained matress, lays Malia Tate, eyes open wide and guts ripped from inside her chest. Stiles gasps, stepping backward, feeling sick build up in his throat. 

He nearly wretches out his lunch, when something hits the back of his head, hard.

He falls to the floor, incredible pain blossoming in his skull from whatever hit him and from where he hit the concrete. It takes a moment to come back to his senses, and when he does, he looks behind him to see Theo standing above him, bloody hammer in his hand.

"Stiles," Theo says, voice too casual being that he's in front of a dead body and is holding a fucking bloody hammer, "Wish you didn't come. I wasn't planning on killing you."

Stiles' eyes widen. Theo raises his hammer again. "Wait!" Stiles yells, scurrying backwards depite his aching head, "Don't, please!"

"Can't have you telling anyone my secret, now can I?" Theo says, following him, still holding his weapon.

Stiles tries to run past him, to the stairs. Makes it, too. About four steps. Theo is quicker, though. He grabs the back of Stiles' shirt and pulls him roughly back, making him collide with the floor again.

"It's really a shame." Theo says with a chuckle, circling him like a lion around it's prey, "I liked our conversation. But you just had to be nosy." He shakes his head, looking at his hammer.

"Pl-please." Stiles says, glancing again at Malia. It looks like she's been dead for days. He looks back to Theo, deperately pleading with tears in his eyes, "Please, I won't tell anyone, I won't."

Theo chuckles again. But this time, he crouches in front of Stiles. He reaches a hand out and pets Stiles' head. Stiles flinches away, but the groping hand just follows him. "See, I wish I could believe you, Stiles."

Stiles sniffs, panic filling his body. He's gonna die. Gonna be mutilated by this psycho and left to rot in this secret basement with Malia. Theo removes his hand, saying, "I know you'll tell someone. So I can't let you go."

Stiles squeezes his eyes shut tight. He's ready. He's terrified, but he's ready. But, the bash to his head never comes. Instead, Theo's hand grabs his ankle and twists violently. Stiles gasps when he hears the cracking, the pain incredible for a moment.

He looks up at Theo with confusion in his tear filled eyes. "W-Why-" he barely manages, pain too much.

"Don't worry," Theo says, smiling, "I do like you, Stiles."

Then he raises his hammer and it crashes against Stiles head. And right before Stiles loses conciousness, he thinks he sees glowing golden eyes.


End file.
